The UK response to the coronavirus outbreak shows we have no right to act superior over other nations

It is hard to see how we can claim to be seen as first-rate in almost anything associated with this pandemic, writes Mary Dejevsky

How could the UK and its sainted NHS end up with more people dying from a pandemic than Italy, or France? And how could we do so much worse than Germany? (AFP/Getty)

A recent video, just a minute or so long and snatched from Channel 4‘s Gogglebox, is telling. Here we have the regular team of TV viewers on their sofas, watching Boris Johnson speaking outside Downing Street on his first day back at work.

When he talks of “our apparent success” in dealing with the coronavirus outbreak, there’s a slight pause, before they explode in incredulity: “Apparent success?” “What success?” “It’s been an absolute shambles. It’s a shitshow. They said a good result would have been 20,000 people and we are at 20,000 and there are still people losing their lives.” “A model of success?”

Their response is notable for several things: their unanimity and the utter derision with which they greet the prime minister’s insistence on the UK’s “apparent success”. But a third is their awareness of the numbers and where the UK fits in. All this is at a time when the prime minister remains relatively popular and before the official death toll from the virus passed 30,000 – as it did this week.

One of the features of the pandemic has been its complete dominance of the public space: of real life, of politics, of the media. But another is the opportunity it has afforded to make instant comparisons – and the public awareness of those comparisons. Coronavirus has ravaged dozens of countries, but different countries have dealt with the emergency in different ways. It has been a test of leadership – with the women who lead New Zealand, South Korea and Germany receiving particular accolades – a test of official communications and civic responsibility, as well as a test of the trust that any administration commands.

Above all, perhaps, it is a test of competence, as demonstrated by results – the results in the case of the pandemic being the capacity of any health service to cope with such a crisis; and – the ultimate test in the public mind, perhaps – to prevent people from dying. By neither standard has the UK done especially well. The early weeks of the pandemic were dominated by complaints from medical staff about shortages of equipment, especially protective clothing (PPE), and the death toll is now higher than any other in Europe.

Now there are many reasons to be wary of statistics. The way individual countries record deaths is one reason for caution and whether coronavirus was the primary or contributory cause. It is also true that the comparative performance of different countries will only be reasonably judged in many months’ time, when the figures for “excess deaths” can be set against an annual “norm”. Judging one week or month against the same week or month last year or over five years may also distort, as the flu, for instance, reaches different countries at different times in different years.

If there are international comparisons to be drawn, I would also prefer to make them on the basis of per capita, rather than absolute, figures. When the number of UK deaths passed 30,000, yes, it was a tragic marker, and it placed us above Italy in that dubious league table. In per capita terms, however, the UK remains – as government scientists said – behind Belgium, Italy and Spain. For the time being.

Whatever basis is taken for the comparisons, however, they are being made, and the UK public is well aware of them. To do worse than some countries, such as South Korea or Singapore, is perhaps one thing. But to pass Italy is quite another, not least because we saw those horrific pictures of their hospitals being swamped and their medics in despair.

UK ministers can claim credit for ensuring that at least the UK avoided that catastrophe – the goal to “Protect the NHS” was attained. But that will be scant consolation to all the families of those who have died. How could the UK and its sainted NHS end up with more people dying from a pandemic than Italy, or France? And how could we do so much worse than Germany? Or, in per capita terms, so far behind the United States, whose line on the absolute graph soars way above any other country, simply because of its 300 million-plus population?

Most people probably have in their mind’s eye a personal league table of other countries they find familiar. There is the old joke – from another era – about national strengths and weaknesses that has heaven as the place where the police are British, the cooks French, the mechanics German, and the lovers Italian and it’s all organised by the Swiss, and hell is where the chefs are British, the mechanics French, the lovers Swiss, the police German and it’s all organised by the Italians. Until very recently, the assumption in the UK, at least, was that the UK was one of the “best” places to be ill because of the NHS and general standards of government and organisation.

The combination of a disaster that – unlike an earthquake or a terrorist attack – presents a similar threat to many countries at once, and the fact that it is a medical emergency in which failure can be quantified in the stark number of deaths, virtually invites even insular Britons to gauge how one country is matching up against another. Even at this early stage, it is hard to see how the UK can claim to be top dog in almost anything associated with this pandemic. How could anyone look at us, in the words of the Gogglebox viewer, as “a model of success”?

As it happens, the coronavirus has been passing its peak in Europe at the very time when many countries have been preparing for the 75th anniversary of VE Day: the end of the Second World War in Europe. The UK had particularly ambitious plans, with the May Day bank holiday even moved to 8 May to give everyone the day off. In part this may have been because it is the last major war anniversary still just about in living memory; in part, perhaps, because re-enacting the joyous scenes from 1945 was seen as offering a chance to heal some of the divisions after Brexit.

In the event, Covid-19, has forced the cancellation of most festivities. There can obviously be no national celebration at such a time. Maybe, though, this is no bad thing. The Second World War has cast a lavishly flattering light over British history and the country’s image of itself practically ever since. From gilded folk memories to school curricula, “the war” – far more than Empire – has been a unifying national reference – rehearsed once again in the evocations of the “Blitz spirit” when the pandemic first struck, and it looked as though, once again, the UK could be on the winning side.

It is too early to forecast how well the UK will stack up in the ultimate international reckoning of the pandemic. But it is already clear that we are not up there with the best. What is more, a number of nations have undoubtedly excelled. And while there may be reasons for this, beyond the competence of government and the health service – the density and profile of populations, for instance – our self-image as always and forever “the best” has suffered a grievous blow.

In the long term, maybe this will encourage the UK to look at itself and how it does things more critically; to realise that after 75 years we should stop using the victory cry, “We won the war”, to validate our superiority and justify everything that came next. This pared-back, low-key, locked-down VE Day would be a good place to start.